Cold as the Wind Blows
by artypendragon
Summary: Every year on the first day of spring, Uther lets Arthur and Morgana and the rest of the nobles and servants do as they please, just for the day - and this year, Merlin finds himself invited to the best picnic of his life.


Merlin hadn't known about this tradition the entire six months that he'd been in the royal household's employ, and he would've carried on unaware had Arthur himself not dragged Merlin out past the citadel walls. The first day of spring — the air was crisp and the sun cool. Snow had barely had the chance to melt away and the green burst from the ground as if weary of playing Hide and Go Seek with the sky, flowers blooming in its wake like shy new guests to the world.

"Can you — let me — enjoy the sights," Merlin panted as Arthur sprinted onwards. Even in the season-seam's chill he was sweating. It might have something to do with the thick layered quilt he was carrying, while Arthur pranced about burden-free like the prat he was.

"Oh, you girl's petticoat," Arthur called, unfairly not out of breath at all. "Come on, faster! We shan't make it in time."

"For what!"

"You'll see!"

And Merlin did see, as Arthur led him into the woods and into his favourite clearing. People were already gathered there, chattering with excitement and flushed from the cold. They set baskets of food and drink around a wide, circular space on the damp ground being covered with oilskin and layered quilts like Merlin's.

"A picnic?" Merlin asked, incredulity colouring every syllable. What a treat! Ealdor had been too small a hamlet and Merlin's friends too few for him to enjoy anything like this before.

"You see?" Arthur said proudly, finally taking the quilt off of Merlin. "Father lets us have this one day to ourselves, where we can do as we please. And we always come here."

Merlin looked around. He recognised some young noblewomen and dukes, and their maids and squires, and even a few of Arthur's knights. Morgana and Gwen waved to them. Merlin beamed and waved back. The sight of two friendly faces was comforting — not that Arthur's wasn't a friendly face. It was… it was better, but Merlin would never admit it.

"What do you do? Just sit and eat?"

"No, you clot." Arthur cuffed Merlin round the head as he dropped the quilt over the last oilskin and clambered onto it with unshod feet. Merlin followed his lead and curiously watched everyone sitting in a tight circle, servants and nobles sitting side-by-side as equals. Would Arthur let him be his equal, too?

"Here," his master said, pushing a warm bread roll into his hands. Merlin nearly dropped it out of shock. Arthur serving _Merlin_ first?

Gwen laughed next to him. "We come here to laze the day away," she explained. "One day of freedom, good food, good mead, and games where we're all alike, undivided by station." Arthur nodded on Merlin's other side, mouth stuffed full with bread and possibly chicken. Merlin wasn't peering too closely.

"It's quite fun," Morgana said, on Gwen's other side, leaning into the circle to better look at Merlin. "The games especially. They're silly, but we get to embarrass Arthur —" and this got a joyful laugh out of Merlin and an annoyed swat from Arthur — "it's the real reason anyone turns up, really."

"Shut up, Morgs," Arthur said, passing Merlin a goblet of mead. Merlin stared at Arthur. Had he gone a bit mad? Arthur, who threw a fit whenever Merlin's fingers even inched towards his tray, rolled his eyes at him. "Drink it, would you? And try to have a good time. It hasn't been fun watching your pinched mug these past weeks."

* * *

"Forfeits," Morgana announced, tossing what seemed to be Merlin's hat from his official livery into the middle of the circle. Sated and more than a little bit squiffy, everyone giggled and perked up. Merlin looked cluelessly at Arthur, who sighed with false exasperation.

"People go round the group, pointing at people and challenging them to either answer their question truthfully or carry out a command to the letter. And if they're unwilling, they put a trinket of theirs into the hat and later if they're picked, they have no choice but to do what the group decides, else they lose their trinket forever."

"Sounds fun," Merlin said, beaming. Will would've loved this. Dear old Will, with the bawdiest stories and the worst pranks.

Arthur huffed out a laugh and shook his head at him, uncrossing his legs to kick at Merlin.

Merlin couldn't help it — a beam of his magic shot up into the sky and fell in showers over the group. He was so happy. He'd thought his day would be as miserable as the ones he'd had all month, but Arthur had proved him wrong. Arthur had brought him here to cheer him up. Oh, Arthur.

Merlin stole a glance at him. He was smiling softly, watching Morgana point and shout merrily at Barty, cheered on by Barty's lord. Merlin shuffled over a bit, pressing his side against Arthur's, shoulder to hip, hip to knee — shy excitement and innocent pleasure doing away with his usual restraint. If Arthur noticed the sudden warmth, he said nothing, though he did lean into the touch _just_ slightly (or maybe Merlin was just imagining it).

Barty blushed his way through a retelling of his most disastrous love confession. Gwen gladly danced the jig with Morgana, the music supplied by the group's awful singing and clapping (Merlin rather thought Arthur was in tune, but out loud he just pretended to gag for Arthur's benefit).

One of the dukes challenged Arthur to accept for the entire day whatever the ladies of the group had planned beforehand for him. Arthur inclined his head graciously, throwing a mischievous look Merlin's way as every woman but Gwen (who chose to stay back for Merlin, what a lovely friend she was) rose to her feet and ran with abandon into the forest, returning with her hands behind her back.

The laughter and applause was raucous once the gathering of giggling women around Arthur dispersed, revealing Arthur decorated crown to shoulder with bright, colourful wildflowers, tucked behind his ears and snuggled into his hair, into the gaps in his collar. Arthur groaned with resignation.

"How long have you been waiting to do this?" he asked helplessly.

"Since you gave the idea to Lydia last year," Morgana responded, eyes twinkling.

Merlin snickered into his palm. If only he'd been here last year, too! Arthur caught him at it and shoved him into Gwen's side. Then he removed a flower from behind his ear and placed it on Merlin's. "There, your stupid ear doesn't look so enormous anymore."

Merlin's turn came soon enough, and he chose to answer honestly.

"Well, Merlin," Gwen began, "you've impersonated Uther behind his back, haven't you, so —" and Merlin gasped; she _knew_ he had! She and Gaius had been thoroughly entertained one evening by one such impression, but he'd made her swear not to tell anyone, _Gwen, c'mon!_

"Yes, I have," Merlin said, cutting across her (she was going to challenge him!) and not daring to look at a florally-bedecked Arthur, "and now you can't ask anything more of me!"

* * *

The only thing Merlin remembered about their drunken game of Forfeits afterwards was — was the _kiss_.

After the flower incident, Arthur had turned down the next person to point to him, and tossed his cord and pendant into the hat (which was _definitely_ Merlin's well-loathed headpiece). So had some other people, but not Merlin. He was slightly pleased about it.

And when it was Arthur's pendant picked out of the hat, Morgana held it ransom and commanded him to kiss any one member of their little group, his favourite person of them all.

Merlin waited with bated breath, gazing around the circle to see whom Arthur would pick. Would it be Gwen, with her lovely smile? Or Lady Elaine with the red curls? Clara with the dimples? Leon with his —

Arthur's gentle fingers curled under Merlin's chin, and Merlin would have gasped in shock if his lips hadn't just been captured in the sweetest kiss of his life.

He faintly recalled loud catcalling from everyone (Morgana really knew how to let her hair down), but the only thing he could focus on was the softness of Arthur's mouth on his, lips pursing for pressure, his wet mingling with Merlin's and sending little thrills up and down his skin. He was Arthur's favourite, over Gwen and Morgana and the knights. He was Arthur's favourite of them all. Arthur's. Arthur, _ArthurArthurArthur —_

Merlin parted only reluctantly from the kiss, and when he met Arthur's smiling eyes he blushed a brilliant red, what a girl he was. Arthur snorted lightly; all the flowers had fallen off him when Merlin had run his fingers daringly through Arthur's hair.

Gwen pinched Merlin later, when he wouldn't meet anyone's eyes out of abashment. "Lucky boy," she whispered, nothing but happy for him. Merlin grinned shyly at her and helped collect the empty baskets and quilts and goblets.

It was late afternoon when the party returned to the citadel, and Arthur threw a look over his shoulder at Merlin, as if he expected Merlin to follow him instead of passing the picnic things to the scullery maids and washerwomen. Merlin gulped nervously and didn't protest when Morgana took his load off his hands, nudging him none too tenderly in Arthur's direction.

"Go," she hissed.

Merlin went.

* * *

"Arthur?" Merlin asked.

Arthur fixed him to his place with an inscrutable look. Merlin leant against the closed door, heart in his throat as he recollected Arthur's sunny warmth under his fingers.

"Merlin," Arthur said, a tad hesitant.

"Just kiss me already," Merlin blurted out, and clapped a hand to his mouth in mortification. What if it had just been for the game? What if Arthur hadn't actually meant it, if he'd chosen Merlin for his proximity and nothing else?

"There isn't a thing I want more to do," Arthur said and laughed, suddenly far too close. He rested his hands on either side of Merlin's head, walling him in. And then his mouth was on Merlin's again, and again, and again, and it was the greatest pleasure of Merlin's life: that Arthur, who regularly cuffed Merlin and tweaked his ears and called him an idiot, was just as affectionate towards Merlin as Merlin was towards him.

"Thank you for giving me your only free spring day," Merlin whispered against Arthur's mouth, in between slow strokes of their tongues against each other. Arthur smiled into the deep kiss and held Merlin very close, enveloping Merlin in that same beloved sunlit warmth of his, and answered against Merlin's ear:

"No more kissing games for you, except with me."

And Merlin was quite agreeable to that.


End file.
